


after the sun goes down

by galacticjellyfish



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Graphic Gore Descriptions, Hallucinations, Hurt No Comfort, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, vague ass ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:05:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticjellyfish/pseuds/galacticjellyfish
Summary: pete’s tired of bothering patrick every time the voices are too loud.(it’s a shitty vent fic!)





	after the sun goes down

**Author's Note:**

> shitty vent fic i wrote mostly on my phone. not proof-read

Pete doesn’t think it’s fair to feel this way for the fifth day in a row. Five days. One-hundred and twenty hours. Over seven-thousand minutes, of whatever this was. It was indescribable at most points, because words like paranoia and dread and depression seemed like child’s-play in comparison to the pain he had been fighting against the past five days. And Pete had an unfortunate feeling in his gut that today wasn’t going to be the last day, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to kill himself.   
  


Worse still was that yesterday he thought he had gotten over it, because even though his heart felt weak and his head was spinning, he was happy and giggly and did nothing but talk to Patrick all day about how cute he was and how great their life was. But then it was eight pm and he felt the shallow waters slowly creeping up his body, and he couldn’t do anything as that awful, horrible feeling overtook him again.   
  


He was too tired to deal with it, with this, with anything, and he just wanted it to go away. The voices stuck around, too. The impulsive, horrible thoughts that he couldn’t shake. The ones that did nothing but tell him how he didn’t deserve the air he breathed, he was a horrible person,  _ nobody cares about him because he ruins every good relationship he ever has, he was a piece of shit that should just shove his entire bottle of sleeping pills down his throat and maybe wash it down with an entire bottle of wine just to be on the safe side. _

 

Yup, it was getting worse. 

 

He doesn’t remember the last time he had a specific plan, or such vivid images of him dead on his mind. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt that any little thing was going to break him and finally send him over the edge. This weakness, this lack of control, it was killing him. This was killing him, living this way, and he doesn’t understand how of all these people he knew, only one saw how bad it was. Seas of people that claim to care, and there’s only one. And that one has enough to deal with without having to physically hold Pete down and beg him not to do something he’ll regret. Patrick deserved better than this, didn’t he? He deserved better than this even before Pete slipped into his episodes. He deserved to have somebody that could be there for him all the time, love and cherish him forever,  _ he deserves the chance to choke you until your eyeballs just pop out of your stupid skull because he hates you, he hates you so much and he’s tired of putting up with this charade and he wants to see you perish. _ __  
  


Patrick wasn’t faking this, right? No, Patrick loved him. They shared vows forever, he wouldn’t have lied about that. Patrick isn’t a liar.   
  


_ You made him into a liar just like you, a filthy, dirty, liar because you wouldn’t leave him alone and you forced him to say ‘I love you’ back. He can’t wait for the day you finally stop being a pussy and finally just slit your throat. _

  
Music might help, but Pete can’t really think straight. He can’t focus on anything but the words. The venom. The  _ truth _ . And sometimes they can yell over the music, if Pete’s feeling particularly bad. He doesn’t know what will help. He forget to breathe for a couple seconds and the pain in his heart makes him cry out loud. He wants to scream. This isn’t fair.  _ Nobody cares about what’s fair, this is what you deserve. You deserve to rot alone in your room. Nobody would care, nobody would notice, your body would stay there for weeks before anyone bothered to check on you. _ __  
  


Breathe, in and out. Just breathe, that’s supposed to help but nothing helps  _ you’re beyond help, and soon everyone else will see that and finally give up on you. Don’t you want to be gone while they still think they love you? So someone will miss you? _ __  
  


But death is scary, Pete doesn’t want to die, does he? No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to die. He needs to push through, because in a couple days he won’t feel this, right? He can’t. He can’t do this. The pain is literally too much to handle, he can’t just live like this forever.   
_ That’s why you aren’t, you aren’t going to you don’t deserve to live. _ __  
  


He needs Patrick again, but Pete’s pretty sure this is the last thing Patrick needs right now. Or ever. Nobody needs this.

 

_ Do it, tell him how shitty of a person you are, ruin your relationship, say you want to slit your wrists and nothing matters and nobody can help you. Do it in front of him. Slit your wrists in front of him so you can watch him breakdown as he watches your veins burst open and the blood ruin the carpet. Fucking destroy him. _

 

This would destroy him. Whether Patrick found his body or not, this would destroy him. This would ruin his life. He’s told Pete that before, that he can’t live without him. They’re supposed to be getting through this together, because Pete promised he’d stay with Patrick forever.

 

_ Promises don’t mean anything, Patrick won’t care. He won’t care and he’ll find someone better than you. He’ll find someone without your baggage or scars and he’ll be so happy without your sorry ass holding him back. _

 

Pete thinks he’s crying again, but he can’t really tell. The world seems artificial around him, and he can’t even feel himself anymore, either. He’s trying to be strong by himself, but he already knows how this night is going to end.

 

He cries, he cuts, he calls Patrick, he’s forced to keep going.

He cries, he drinks, he calls Patrick, he’s forced to keep going.

He cries, he tries to overdose, he calls Patrick, Patrick forces him to vomit out what feels like entire organs, he’s forced to keep going.

He cries, he’s stupid, he calls Patrick.

 

Pete lets out a shaky breath.

 

He’s not calling Patrick tonight.


End file.
